Crushed
by Pisces
Summary: When most of the Roughnecks die, the rest are left to pick up the pieces.


Crushed **Disclaimer:** The Roughnecks don't belong to me. They belong to... some people. Who aren't me. Yeah, that's it...

**Author's Notes:** I actually wrote this a while ago, but I've just started posting things on FanFiction.Net, so I thought I'd put this up too. Not my best, but hey!, nobody can be perfect. ::grin:: Though I can try.

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**Crushed**

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A Roughneck: Starship Troopers Chronicles fan fiction by Pisces

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_Part I_

Jenkins leapt and rolled, dodging just barely out of the way of a bug carcass falling from the sky, shot down by a well placed bullet from Rico's gun. Beside him, Gossard stopped just long enough to grab the psychic's arm and literally drag him off the ground and haul him along after him. The LT yelled for them to move their sorry asses faster over the comlink as Higgins signaled franticly from the mouth of the shallow cave the rest of the squad was holed up in. Both men were breathing harshly as they scrambled over the rough terrain, sprinting desperately to keep ahead of the horde of bugs swarming after them.

Gossard risked a quick glanced behind him and cursed softly under his breath. The plasma bugs were ready to fire again, but this time, they were in range. His hand around Carl's arm tightened reflexively as he upped the speed, practically dragged his fellow Roughneck along. Carl let out a small yelp as he almost tripped at the sudden burst of energy from the Marauder, but knew better then to stop and question.

A deafening boom, a streak of blue overhead, and suddenly the cave exploded in a shower melted rocks. Gossard stopped dead in sheer shock, staring numbly at the remains of the cavern they had just been running to. Finally, after a few seconds, he shook his head roughly to clear it and realized Jenkins had fallen to his knees beside him, desperately clutching the side of his helmet and screaming in what seemed to be pain.

"Carl! Get up! We have to go!" Goss pulled the psychic up again, this time Carl not even trying to help. "Come on!" he yelled, anger tinting his voice as he tried to make the unresponsive blond move. Sighing in frustration and taking a quick look at the insects getting ever closing, he lifted Jenkins off the ground and slung him over his shoulder. As Gossard started off toward the now destroyed cave, he thanked God that there where no flyers in the group chasing them. Firing blindly behind him as he ran, Goss finally reached the rubble, ran to one side, and fired off his lizard line. Gripping the gun in one had and steadying Jenkins with the other, the Marauder slowly made his way up the cliff side just as the multitude of bugs slammed into the rock. A few tried to jump up and snap at him, but Gossard was already too high.

Finally, Gossard rolled onto the top, flopping Jenkins next to him. Now that his adrenaline rush was over, it all came crashing back down on him. He turned to the now whimpering Carl and tried to sound reassuring, while also trying to convince his still in denial self. "I'm sure they're not dead. I mean, come on! It was just a little cave in..." he trailed off. He wasn't helping in the least and tears where starting to pool in Carl's blue eyes.

"You don't get it, do you?" came Carl's reply, voice harsh and choked with tears. "I _felt_ them die! Every single one of them! They were all there, like a background hum, and then, _wham!_, they were all ripped from my mind. I felt their pain as they... You want to know who survived longest, suffered the most?! The Lieutenant did, lasted a whole fifteen seconds until the rocks finally totally smashed his powersuit. Live through fifteen whole fucking seconds of the pain of having his legs crushed but still be living!" A sob prevented him from continuing to rant and he finally broke down, leaning heavily against the stunned Gossard.

Gossard didn't know what else to do so he just wrapped his arms awkwardly around Carl, bulky powersuits making the task harder than it should have been. He thought to keep arguing, but knew it was useless. Carl had never been wrong before and he definitely didn't seem wrong now. All hopes of seeing his squad alive again had been dashed to tiny pieces. He still felt rather numb inside, but tears were starting to fall anyway.

Behind his blank stare, Goss' thoughts were in turmoil. It had been way to sudden, way too abrupt to seem real. _~All my squad, all my friends, all my family. They're gone, just like that. And I didn't even get to say a fucking goodbye.~_ His fist tightened in anger and the arm about Carl's shoulder squeeze just a tad bit harder, causing the psychic to look up at him. _~Well, maybe not all of them.~_

Jenkins sniffled and reached up a hand to try and wipe his tears away, remembering to late that he had a helmet on. The result ended up being Jenkins knocking his fist against the faceplate and then staring at with an almost comical look of perplexed confusion. Gossard couldn't help it. He started laughing. And, after a few seconds, Carl joined in, both of them clinging onto each other like a lifeline (and in a way, they were), the laughter tainted with hysteria.

When both men had finally settled down, Carl asked, "What do we do now?"

Gossard leaned back his head, staring at the sky. "First, we gotta contact the Valley Forge for a pick-up."

Carl made a face. "I know that. I mean, after that."

Gossard continued to stare upward, partly to watch the skies, mainly to keep his tears from falling. They would probably be split up, put in different squad. He didn't want that and he was sure that Carl didn't either. Well, they would just have to fight to keep together. They were all they had left. When he looked back down, the tears that had been pooling up, blurring his vision, were let free. "After that... Well, after that, I really don't know."

* * *

_Part II_

"So, what are you going to do with us, Commander?" Gossard asked, standing stiff at attention on the bridge of the Valley Forge. "Private Jenkins and me."

Commander Marlowe turned to him. "We will find squads that need fill-ins and you two will obviously be re-assigned to them."

Goss was tempted to growl in frustration but was satisfied with a mental yell. "I know that, sir. What I meant was, well, we were kind of hoping to be put in the same squad, if all possible."

Marlowe glared at him. "I don't know if it is 'if all possible'. We don't have all that much time to be trying to make every trooper happy. There is a war going on, if you hadn't noticed." Sarcasm was laid think. "You'll get what you get."

"Yes, sir." Gossard replied sullenly, saluted, and sulked his way out of the crowded room, trying not to meet the eye of any of the bridge crew. But when the doors closed, he slammed his fist against the bulkhead, seething. Trusting that the airtight doors where also soundproof, the Marauder let out an enraged strangled scream, badly startling a passing trooper. Not only did his squad just up and leave (he wasn't ready to even think of it any other way), he also had to deal with the idiocy and arrogance of the command chain! The back of his mind was trying to tell him that the Commander really _had_ been right in the first place, but the front half wasn't having any part of it. He could have at least said it with more common decency.

He sighed and let it drop for the moment. No use worrying about something you couldn't help. Better said then done. But right now he and Carl were on semi-permanent R&R and he was planning to spend it all at the bar. Maybe he could forget something.

* * * * *

Ah, yes. The Bar. Such a wonderful place. Smoke hazy room, pool tables, and many drunk-off-their-ass troopers wandering around, making complete fools of themselves. The only place troopers with even the littlest bit of vacation (which wasn't very often) can completely loosen up. But even though there was a major sacristy of rest time, Valley Forge was a big ship and the Bar always seemed to be full.

Carl Jenkins, hands clasped loosely about the drink he hadn't even touched, stared blankly out the large, picture like window at one side of the Bar, showing a view of breath taking proportions. Stars twinkled merrily at him from a black backdrop; it's vastness mind-boggling.

_~How pretty.~_ Carl thought rather nastily, lip twisting up in a scowl. _~All those pretty little star systems with all their pretty little planets circling around them in their pretty little ways. And the pretty little universe going on about doing it /pretty/ little damned business!~_ He glared down at his whiskey and downed it all in one angry gulp. _~Oh, no. My life has just been /ruined/ and everything goes on like nothing happened! Ooooh, no! Why should anybody care? Something should be different, anything! It just isn't right!~_

Around him, people talked, shared jokes and laughed (or _didn't_ share jokes and laughed anyway), and couple at the nearest table were snuggling, whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. It was a normal background hum you would find in a public place as such, but there was also the background hum of their mental voices that he just couldn't seem to totally tune out that night. The jumbled, alcohol misted over thoughts of the drunk, the happiness, and person across the room was considering suicide.

Carl suddenly stood up sharply and rounded on the couple at the next table. "Would you two stop being so fucking happy?!" He then turned his shaking finger on a man a few tables away. "And no! I'm not drunk!" he yelled at the trooper who had been thinking just that. And then just as suddenly as he stood up, he sat back down like nothing had happened and continued to stare moodily out the window.

_~It's no fair. Why do they get to still be happy when /I/ just had my family ripped away from me?~_ Growling, he called the on-duty waitress and ordered another drink. When it finally came, he just let it sit there, using it basically just to have something to stare into other than the stupid window or those stupid happy faces.

*Carl?*

Now _that_ startled him badly. He quickly glanced around. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought that had been a telepathic call. But there wasn't any other psychic in the Bar or the Valley Forge for that matter. And he /knew/ he wasn't drunk. He had had only one glass!

*Carl?!*

_~Okay, so maybe I've had more than I remember 'cause that /definitely/ sounding like one.~_

*Damnit Carl! Listen!*

"WHAT?!" he yelled, and then at least had the common decency to look sheepish when he realized he had said that out loud. Now he was getting even _more_ looks than before.

Calming down, he tried again. *Who are you and what do you want?!*

The voice sounded hurt, but only teasingly so. *You mean you don't recognize me? I've only been gone, what, a day, and you forget me.*

*I don't know you.* he 'said', but a bit uncertainly. There was a familiar sound about the voice, but more importantly, then _feel_ was a well known one.

The voice sighed and Carl could just imagine the face behind it rolling its eyes. *Of course you know me!*

*No, I don't. I think.*

*Rico!*

*What about him?* Carl said sharply, suddenly suspicious.

*Not what about him. I _am_ him!*

*No, no, no!* he retorted, not noticing he was also shaking his head fervently. *Rico's dead! They're all dead!* But something had click, and now he knew where he had felt this voice before.

*I-I know. I think so. I remember dying...* The voice (Rico) seemed to take a shuddering breath it didn't really need, but habits are hard to break. *But I'm not dead. Sorta.*

*No! You don't get it! You're dead and that's final. I'm just drunk. Or at least will be.* And with that, Carl completely ignored anything else he heard and stared up the task of getting himself more pissed than he had ever been in his life.

* * * * *

Gossard made his way down the hall, considerably calmed down from his go with Commander Marlowe. He could practically hear the beer calling his name. But just as he reached the Bar and was about it enter the wonderful world of a drunken stupor, the so-called 'bouncer', Big Joe was his nickname, hauled somebody and literally threw him out. Joe wiped his hands off and stepped back to his job: lurking in the shadows, looking menacing, and to do what he just did, throw people out if they were getting too rowdy. Somebody always came by and picked up the too-drunk ones and found them their way home.

The trooper just kicked out raised himself onto his elbow, shook a none-to-steady fist at Big Joe and yelled in a slurred voice. "Hey! I'm not... uh... wassizit called?... yeah! Drunk! I'm not, yeah, that, that one word..."

Gossard stared in surprise. "Carl?!" he said, incredulously.

Carl tried to turn his head around to face the Marauder, but only ended up falling over, smiling at his friend from his position laying on his back on the floor. He actually managed to wave without hurting himself. "Hiya Goss! 'Magine meetin' you here..."

Gossard knelt down beside him. "Don't tell me you're drunk."

"Kay." Carl shrugged, and since Gossard had been trying to help him sit up, caused him to slide back to the floor. "I'm not... uh... What am I not 'gain?"

Goss sighed and shook his head. He had been the one planning on getting piss-ass drunk and forcing Carl to drag _him_ back to their quarters. "Drunk." He answered absent mindedly as he struggled to get his unsteady friend to his feet.

"Yeah, thesh right... I'm not, not drunk."

"If you say so." Gossard said. He had finally got him up and was making his way back down the hall, Carl's arm around his neck and Goss supporting most of his weight. "God Carl! How much do you weigh?"

Carl _tried_ to glare and didn't pull it off very well. "Ya know what? I was sittin' in there and the funniest thing happened to me!" That alone was enough to send him over the edge and Carl broke into a fit of giggles, lightly pounding his fist against Goss' chest.

Gossard waited for him to finish and tell him what the funniest thing that happened to him had been. But while he was waiting, Gossard claimed an empty lift and leaned the still laughing psychic against the wall and pressed the 'up' button.

Finally, Carl calmed down. "Yeah, ya see... hehe... I just sittin' there and _Rico_ talked to me! Funniest thing, ain't it?!" He almost started laughing again when the alcohol in his system said it was time for a mood swing. And instead of laughter, he started bawling. He flung himself at Gossard. "I talked to him but he's dead!"

Goss blinked. "Well, I haven't been talking to the dead, but I do have a case of Bud under my bunk." _~Amazing what you could get if you knew the right connections.~_ "I say we go share that and try to forget everything in general."

Carl stopped crying as suddenly as he had started and stared up at Goss as if he had just offered to share a million dollars with him. "Really?" he asked, eyes wide. "Woo-hoo!" He pumped a fist in the air, arm still wrapped around Gossard's neck for support.

"Glad you like that idea." He said, mainly to himself.

And so the two stumbled out of the elevator, one stumbling because he had to and the other because there was no other way of walking with a tipsy person clinging to you, off to get themselves thoroughly wasted.

* * *

_Part III_

It was actually quite a lovely field. Lushes green grass waving in the wind, the one lone tree standing grandly in its isolatedness, the blue sky. The dead people surrounding him...

"Okay, hold up a minute." Carl held up his hand and stopped Rico from even beginning to speak. "I _told_ that you're dead! I don't want to talk to you. It _must_ have been that last beer..."

Rico smiled. "I know I'm dead. I don't really know what's going on, but I know for sure that I died."

"So you're dead!" Carl threw his hands up in frustration. "I know that fact all too well. You don't have to keep reminding me! God, I must being going insane... Just, just go away!"

Rico took a step closer. "But Carl, you can't keep on ignoring us."

"Just try me." The psychic looked around at all the others. "And why aren't _they_ bothering the fuck outta me too?"

Rico shrugged. "They haven't completely found their way yet. They can see, just not speak."

"Good for them." He turned sharply on his heel away from his friend and stalked out of the circle the Roughnecks had made. As he brushed by Higgins, the boy reached out for him, giving him the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes he had ever seen.

"No! No, no, no!" He jumped back from the outstretched hand and ended up bumping right into Doc. "Just stay away!" He backed out of the ring of people, shaking his head venomously. "This isn't healthy. This is denial, that's what it is! My mind is playing tricks on me! I just have to except the fact that you guys are gone and that's that. I'm waking up now." Then he turned his back on them and ran off.

Rico almost chased after him, but a hand on his arm stopped him. Rico glanced at his Lieutenant questionably. Rezak just shook his head.

* * * * *

"Oh my... God..." Carl moaned, rolled over and ended up landing on Gossard. He cracked open his bleary eyes, then threw an arm over them to block out the light. "Are we on the floor?"

Gossard pushed him off and tried with all his might to sit up. "Did we actualy sing that song last night?"

Carl sighed. "Unfortunately, yes, I'm pretty sure we did. And rather loudly."

" Are you ready to cut your head off too?"

"Oh yeah." Carl turned his head to Goss, who had given up on the whole sitting up idea. "Remind me to never, _ever_ do that again."

"I was just about to ask the same thing."

"I had the _strangest_ dream..." he stared, then suddenly turned pale, jump to his feet and sped out the door, mumbling a quick, "Be right back."

Goss chuckled and decided to not do that again. It's just caused his pounding headache to beat down on him with even more fury.

He was laying on the floor in his quarters and had no intentions of getting up. But since there really wasn't anything to do down there, that left time to think. And that was a bad thing. He didn't _want_ to think. Think was a very bad thing to do right now.

The quarters were too quiet. He had never been in there without the whole squad being in there at the same time. All the bunks where made, not a one messed up. All the blankets in place, just as they had left them before... Well, before it had happened. Gossard got a sudden want to get out of there.

He somehow made his body listen to his pounding head and got up, carefully shuffling his way out the room and down the hall. Halfway to the bathroom, he met up with Carl, who was making his way back to room with equal carefulness.

Without exchange of words, they both leaned against the wall and slid to the floor almost as one.

"_Definitely_ remind me not to do this again." Carl said after a few minutes of staring at the opposite wall and occasional passing of a trooper's legs.

Gossard nodded his head in agreement.

* * *

Part IX

That night they found themselves at the Bar. And the night after that, they were at the Bar. And the night after and every night that week. It became a routine of sorts. They would go their separate ways each morning, try to avoid each other as much as possible, then meet back at the Bar every night and try to forget anything and everything.

Another thing that became routine for Carl was Rico nagging at him. You're drinking too much. Stop trying to drown your sorrows. I'm right here; you don't have to mourn for me. And of course Carl ignored him. If he listened, he was afraid he would start answering back and he really didn't feel like being insane. Besides, what did the voices in his head know anyway? He would rather trust himself than his head.

Gossard found out that there were so many things to take apart on the Valley Forge. They still hadn't figured out who had taken apart the huge fridge in the back of the cafeteria and drug off the door. Or who had somehow made the bridge doors chime 'Here They Come A-Wassailing' every time they opened. Or closed. Or when anybody walked near it. There had been a suspicious snickering down the hallway when it first started, but when Marlowe sent somebody to check it out, nobody had been there. Gossard once got stuck in an elevator full of angry troopers for two hours because he wanted to see what was behind the panel and somehow managed to stop the car right between levels. He swore he had no clue how that had happened.

There had also been reports of spoons floating off of people's trays during lunch. The Higher Ups said it was all a rumor. Rumor or not, now half the ship thought that the Valley Forge was haunted and wouldn't venture out of their bunks past eleven, ship time, for fear of having their souls drained from their bodies. Carl wasn't sure where that part originated from.

But at the end of that week, they did things a bit different. Started late and so it was that they were still 'partying' (i.e. - they still had beer left) in the early morning. Since they were already royally snuckered, the two didn't really react all that much when a man threw open the door to their bunks and stormed in, followed by a whole troop of other people. All they really did was smile and offered a beer.

Lieutenant Praslen seethed. He knew that these two had been causing some small problems since the death of the rest of the squad, but he didn't expect them to be dead drunk! This was an insult!

The two watched the man turn red in amusement. Jenkins leaned over, that is to say, fell over in Gossard's direction. "I think they think we're bums!"

"Ya know, I think they're right!" Then both broke out in giggles.

The Lieutenant narrowed his eyes, took a deep breath, and barked out, "You two losers get your asses off the floor and stand at attention in front of your commanding officer!"

It was like a reflex action; they couldn't control themselves in the face of a full-fledged roared-out command. Both scrambled to their feet and slightly leaned against each other to make sure they didn't fall over. The beer can still in Goss' hand was quickly thrown to the side.

"It is to my... sadness that I have to take on you two drunk-ass dick heads. We were in need..." Pain flashed across his face, so fast it was barely noticeable. "...of new troopers and you two where the first on the list. Now, I knew Razak and knew he had been a good man and I'm _hoping_ some of that rubbed off on you two. One hour, be at docking bay four." With saying that, he stomped back out the door. The troopers behind him all took their turns glaring at them and followed as well.

Now, _that_ had been an instant sobering up. The two ex-Roughnecks exchanged almost horrified looks. They _knew_ they were going to get reassigned to another squad, but it hadn't seemed real until this moment. It was official. They weren't Roughnecks anymore. And now, all ties they had left with their old squad were dead.

After seconds of just staring at each other, they had scrambled into action. There was a flurry of motion as they ran for the door, both trying to get out at the same time. Finally, they figured out who owned who's legs and rushed out, pounding down the hallway. They both knew were they had to go. Weather it had been in part helped by Jenkins or not, they both knew and they weren't wasting time getting there.

They kept on running, even through the crowded areas of the Valley Forge around docking and cafeteria. Arms pumping and legs taking huge, ground swallowing leaps, they dodged in and out of the mass, ignoring the string of yells they lefty behind in their wake. They had to figure out what was going on. They _knew_, but...

They rushed towards the nearest lift, but turned sharply as Gossard yelled out, "Stairs!" Instead of taking the elevator, they threw open one of the only non-mechanical doors on the ship and loped up the steep stairs, usually only used in emergencies, their thoughts in the same frenzied mass as their bodies.

The two men didn't even bothering slowing down as they reached the bridge doors, ignoring the first string of the Christmas song that chimed at them, still not fixed. Luckily, Commander Marlowe was there, sitting in his chair, staring moodily at the planet showing on the screen. If he hadn't been, they would have wasted the last two minutes running halfway across the Valley Forge. It had never occurred to them that he wouldn't have.

Marlowe had lifted his chin off his fist when the song had started, but stood up when Goss and Carl came skidding to a halt in from of him. "What is the meaning of this?!"

Gossard was the first to speak, Carl still trying to catch his breath. "Sir, we mean no disrespect, _~Like I really care right now.~_ but why the hell did you do that?!"

Marlowe raised an eyebrow at them, momentarily put off by the Marauder's vague reply. The Commander searched his mind for anything that might give him a clue to what he was talking about and it suddenly hit him. He had taken up finding them another squad himself, but he wasn't about to tell them that. He had known Razak and so took slight pity on them. And pushing from a certain General by the name of Redwing had helped a bit too.

"And why are you complaining? You got what you wanted." _~But how did they find out?~_

Goss clenched his teeth in anger. Not at the Commander, but at himself for he knew Marlowe was right. "I _know_ sir, but..."

"You didn't think you were going to laze about the ship for the rest of your lives?"

"No sir, but..."

Carl spoke up. "We know, Commander, we just, we just... I don't know!" he finished with a sigh. "We're grateful for getting us in the same squad, don't think we're unthankful."

"You're certainly acting like it."

The two traded looks when they realized they really had nothing to say. It _was_ what they wanted. Goss appeared uncomfortable when he finally said, "I guess we'll... leave then."

Marlowe glared at them coolly. "You do that." He watched sulk away, but stopped them after a thought. "Wait... How did you know you already had a new squad?"

The two troopers looked confused. It was Gossard that spoke up first again. "What'd you mean? They came by and told us. We have an mission in less than an hour."

_~Damn. I told him to let me tell them. And not to take that assignment. They were supposed to get to know the squad first! Fool...~_ No matter what he thought, it was too late to change it. They would just have to cope.

* * * * *

*Maybe you'll finally get over our deaths. With a new squad and all.*

*Shut. Up.* Carl growled as he tried to get as comfortable as possible with a powersuit on in a chair not designed for comfort. All around, he could feel the eyes of his new squad (though he did not think of them that way) on him and Gossard sitting next to him. *I _am_ over your death just fine. Just go away. You 're not here.*

Rico's voice took on a sarcastic edge. *Oh, yeah, you're _definitely_ over our deaths. That's why you drink yourself silly every night and since I happen to /be in your head/, I know for a fact you're still mourning. That's all well and good, but this is taking it too far! Accept the fact that we're gone. You know that's how we want it. And of course I'm here. You're talking to me.*

*I'm talking to you because I'm going insane. I have recognized this and ready for the day I pick up a knife and start a killing spree. And, guess what? It'll be your fault! I hope you remember that when I'm sitting in my jail cell, marking the days on the cell wall with my fingernail so I can gloat at you.*

A sigh. *You are not going insane.*

*Just, just...* "Shut up!" That got the attention of everyone in the drop ship. Even Goss raised an eyebrow at him.

Right then, Carl didn't care. He swept his glare over them and snapped out, "I wasn't talking to you!" *Look what you made me do! Now go away!*

*But...*

*No! Go away!*

Jenkins was slightly amazed that he actually did.

* * * * *

It was a normal forest that was soaring up to meet Gossard. In fact, the air on the planet was almost like back at home, and the helmets had been left behind and the powersuits they all had on were slightly different. Oh, it was a perfectly normal forest, but what got Goss was he didn't know they had moved. He had thought they were still fighting on the planet where _it_ happened. It seemed they were not. And, as he came crashing down through the foliage, jetpack roaring in his ears, he really wished they had picked a better place to drop them.

He landed with a thud and winced. That could _not_ be good on the knees and he just _knew_ that he'd be hobbling around in his old age, cursing SICON and their stupid drops. He wished he could keep on grumbling, but now wasn't the time for that. Beside him, Carl, that last one, landed with an almost equally loud thud and heard him curse quietly. Goss had to smile at that. At least he wasn't the only one who thought that.

He turned his attention away his thoughts and on to Lieutenant Praslen. The Lieutenant had given them a short, curt introduction of the squad and himself before getting on the drop ship. He wasn't sure that he even remotely liked the man. They were in the field now; he had put his personal opinions behind.

Their task was a simple one. Find a certain stretch of beach adjacent the largest lake (it did not have anything big enough to really consider an ocean) on the planet, and secure it for further use. As Praslen signaled for them to move out, he fell into step alongside Jenkins, unconsciously picking up his 'copper's walk'. The legs swung like pendulums, almost moving on their own accord and the brain shut down just enough that the upper half was busy watching for the enemy and such while the deeper half was busy rambling to itself, taking a train of thought and running off with it. He could keep that up all day if he needed to. And right then the deep half was busy examining the forest.

...There were a bunch of trees around him... And a bunch of undergrowth... Watch out for that root sticking out there...Yeah, that's it... Step over it, don't want to trip... Big trees around here, can't even hardly see the top... Must be late afternoon... If I remember correctly, this planet rotated opposite of Earth... All those speckles of light coming from the east... When was the last time he had been in a forest like this?... Been a while, before he joined the Roughnecks... Doh! Stupid brain, stupid! Not suppose to think about that!... Certainly got quiet...

"Bugs." The little whisper from Carl started him out of his musings. He glanced over at him just when he repeated 'bugs' again, this time much louder.

Goss immediately brought up his gun. The others didn't. A few glanced around and, seeing none of the enemy, started glaring at Carl once again. Praslen bared down on the psychic and poked a finger at his chest. "I don't know how Rezak ran things, but we don't cry wolf around here, Private!"

Carl blinked. "But, sir! There is!"

"Yeah. Right. I don't see any around here. And how can you tell? You psychic or something?"

Carl blinked again. "Well, yes, I am. Don't you remember? Sir." he added as almost an afterthought.

"I don't trust psychics!" The Lieutenant bellowed into his face.

Behind the Lieutenant's back came a scream and Carl looked over Praslen's shoulder, eyes going wide. Both he and Gossard, guns already out, tried to fire, but it was already too late. A bug had dropped on top of a large trooper (Nelson was his name, if Goss' memory could be trust right then) and before he could react, besides a scream that is, neatly bit his head off. The body landed with a thump, head rolling off to the side, and a fellow trooper that had been standing right next to him was totally drenched in blood. The forest around them suddenly erupted, bugs coming from every side. A short battle ensued; the only injury of any sort was Nelson. And the trooper dripping in scarlet had fainted by the end.

Praslen surveyed his troops and found that two where missing. And he knew exactly who those two where.

* * * * *

Gossard had seen Carl run off near the end of the fight, just throw his gun down and run back the direction they had come, off east. After a quick glance around, he had followed, not really giving a fuck what the consequences were.

He ran past the area where they had been dropped off, crested a hill and stopped short. A brief walk down would carry him to a beach, where he saw that Carl was sitting. But what really caught his eyes was the lake beyond that. It was a fire.

When his brain and eyes finally started working with each other again, he saw that the red covering the water wasn't fire at all. The setting sun, deep red and fiery orange, met the watery horizon and set it ablaze.

He made his way down the hill and plopped down in the sand beside Jenkins, eyes never leaving the sight in front of him. The small waves lapped at his feet, he was so close, and a breeze gently ruffled Goss' hair. Finally, he looked over at his comrade, pale face glowing red-orange in the dying light, and asked, "Why'd you leave?"

Carl just shrugged his thin shoulder made bulky by the powersuit. "He was bugging me. I couldn't concentrate. And, well, I didn't want to be there."

"Who, that Lieutenant?" Gossard snorted. "Yeah, he's a bitch."

Jenkins closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. "No, not him."

"Who?"

Carl didn't answer for the longest time that Gossard was about to ask again. But right when he opened his mouth, Carl blurted out, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Goss let that sudden subject change slip. "Yeah... Yeah, it is."

"I'm sure the squad would've..." He trailed off, almost hesitant to say it, then seemed to be listening to something only he could hear. "I'm sure the Roughnecks would've like to see this."

"Yeah..." he repeated. _~Why'd you go and say that? I had almost gone two minutes without thinking about them.~_ "Hey! What are you doing?!"

Carl had started taking off his powersuit, piece by piece, till he was stripped down to his one-piece jumpsuit. He flashed Goss a fleeting smile before he walked out in the water, steps disturbing it more than the waves were. When out far enough, he dived under, water turned blue for a second before it settled back down and melted back to red.

Carl stayed under so long that Goss was seriously considering going in after him. He had just gotten to his feet when water exploded up, just a little ways off to the right from where Carl had gone down. Jenkins waved at him from his position bobbing up and down in the water and motioned from him to come on in.

Goss shot him a 'are you crazy?' look, but took off his own powersuit and complied anyway. When he got out there, he put his look into words. "Are you just crazy or are you totally insane?"

It was the complete seriousness that put Gossard off when Carl answered, "Totally insane." But then he smiled again, briefly, and added, "So catch me." and dove under once more.

Goss didn't give it a second thought. Everything that had been happening to him seemed to melt away and he decided to play. It would be a nice stress reliever. He took a deep breath and gave chase. Once under, he kicked down and attempted opening his eyes. He was only half shocked to find he could see almost clearly through the blue water. Above him, red light shinned down, but was rapidly fading. The other half he used to be shocked at what he saw when he opened his eyes. Right in front of him was Carl, his own blue eyes staring straight as him. He favored him another lightning-fast smile before bringing his legs up and pushing off of the Marauder's chest, causing himself to propel forward and Goss to tumble backwards.

Gossard rose to the surface, took one more deep breath and plunged down. Once deep enough, he looked around. He caught sight of his target and started toward him, but unfortunately, his target caught sight of him too. Carl flipped towards the bottom and gave one sharp kick down, somehow disappearing.

_~This is no fun when the other person's better than you.~_ he thought grumpily, but didn't give up. He was raising to the surface for another breath when Carl darted in front of him. The psychic reached out, grabbed the sides of Goss' head, and suddenly, the world vanished.

* * * * *

Gossard snapped his eyes open and gasped. Around him was a rolling field and a tree standing stately on top of a hill not far away, the only noticeable landmark. And sitting cross-legged in the tall grass was Carl.

"Where the fuck are we?" Goss asked.

Jenkins gave him a little grin and ran a nervous hand through his hair before patting the ground beside him. Goss peeked around before taking a seat in the cool grass, in front of his fellow ex-Roughneck instead of beside.

"Okay, first thing," Carl started out, "I'll answer your question. I guess the closest thing that this would be called would be my head. I think."

Goss shocked look quickly turned into an outraged one. "You went into my head without my permission?! How dare!-"

Carl held up a hand, effectively shutting him up. "I know, I know. And you have all the right in the world to be pissed at me. It's just that, well, I really do have a good reason for doing this."

Gossard didn't look happy, but let him continue anyway.

Carl ducked his head and stared at the grass. "I've been thinking. Yeah, I guess we can lie to ourselves and say we're doing fine, we're handling this whole thing like men," He laughed a little at that. "If this is handling it like a man, I wish I was born a woman. But, you know, if we keep doing what we've been doing, our lives are going to continue going down hill from here. And, well, I don't want that." He looked up long enough to smile ruefully at him, then dropped his head again, picking a blade of grass from the ground. "And I'm pretty sure you don't either. I myself couldn't get over it and I finally figured out why." He looked up again, fingers still busily tearing apart the hapless grass blade. "Wanna know why?"

Goss stared at him and didn't answer.

The grass finally gave in to the continuous onslaught of Carl's slender fingers and fell in piece to the ground. Another unfortunate blade was plucked. "Since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you. Because I didn't get to say goodbye. It happened so fast, you know? Like in a dream. The LT wouldn't have wanted it this way. None of them would have. We gotta live, not survive."

"But we can't say goodbye." Goss finally spoke up, voice somewhat rough. "They're _gone_."

"I know that. They are gone. But we _can_ say goodbye."

And all of a sudden, the Roughnecks were there with them. They didn't appear, Gossard realized, they had always been there. He just hadn't noticed until then.

They were all smiling as Gossard scrambled to his feet in shocked happiness. "But... But... I don't understand!"

Carl shrugged. "I told you I couldn't let them go. They've been here with me, bugging the crap out of me." A smile was flashed in Rico's direction. "But, now I'm ready to let go, if only to get some peace in my own head. I'm ready, and you need to say goodbye too."

"I know..." The Marauder sighed. "They really are gone, aren't they? They aren't coming back, no matter how much we want it?"

Carl nodded his head sadly.

And so they were finally able to say farewell.

* * * * *

Gossard opened his eyes to clear water and almost choked when he took a breath. He franticly looked around for light and finding none, panicked. But then a hand reached out, grabbed his, and pulled him in a direction, which turned out to be up. Both Gossard and Carl burst out into the chilly night air and gasped deeply, treading water. When both were basically back to breathing normal, they swam back to shore and flopped down on the sand.

The sun had set when they had been under and the stars were taking its place in the sky. All were totally unfamiliar and wholly alien to them, yet wonderful in their own splendor. The two troopers would have stayed gazing up at them longer if not for Carl, who said, "We've been gone long."

Goss removed a hand from under his head and waved in, unconcerned. "We'll just tell them we got lost. And that our coms broke." The he reached over and smashed each of the mouthpieces attached to their helmets still laying in the sand beside them.

Carl laughed and settled back again. A comfortable silence threatened to descend upon them again and it was Carl once again who kept it from coming. "We'll always be Roughnecks, you know? No matter what happens."

Gossard smiled at that. Because it was true. "Yeah, I know."


End file.
